


bend closer, listen, i love you

by sapphyshipseverything



Series: body & soul [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Confessions of love, M/M, Pining, based off the poem 'This Is What I Wanted to Sign Off With' by Alden Nowlan, bucky's last night in nyc, sugar and sweetness, you'll pry secretly unconfident bucky from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphyshipseverything/pseuds/sapphyshipseverything
Summary: "You know what I'm/like when I'm sick: I'd sooner/curse than cry. And People don't often /know what they're saying in the end./Or I could die in my sleep./So I'll say it now. Here it is./Don't pay any attention/if I don't get it right/when it's for real. Blame that/on terror and pain/or the stuff they're shooting/into my veins. This is what I wanted to/sign off with. Bend/closer, listen, I love you. "-Alden Nowlan, This Is What I Wanted to Sign Off WithBucky had stupidly thought that maybe if he could get Steve set up with a nice girl it would ease his worry about leaving him, the horrible gnaw of it deep in his belly. Like maybe if Steve was going steady with some pretty dame it wouldn’t matter that Bucky would be dead in a ditch somewhere, not even to Bucky.Bucky thinks that maybe if he tells himself this enough, it will become true.





	bend closer, listen, i love you

**Author's Note:**

> so, this series has grown from what I originally imagined it to be...seems like I still have plenty of words to write about these two. 
> 
> I haven't included a link to the poem this time, because it's all there in the summary. I literally couldn't pick just one quote from it.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy <3

He really should open his own front door before one of the neighbours comes out and finds him loitering. Bucky’s been staring at the door for…well, he’s not sure how long, but it’s been long enough that he knows he should just _open the damn door._

He doesn’t have long left in Brooklyn, barely a few hours before he’s deployed God knows where and made to fight this war the world’s fallen into. It had seemed like a good idea to go out on that double date when he’d set it up with the girls a few days ago. It was even fun, seeing the wonders the expo had to offer, at least while Steve was there. But then Steve had run off, and Bucky had found him in that recruitment office and his heart had fallen out of his damn ass.

Why was Steve so determined to get himself killed? The only way Bucky was remotely okay with that possibility was if every other soul on Earth had died first. Even then, Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach it. His whole life, all of Bucky’s energy had gone into taking care of Steve, into making sure Steve was okay, that he was happy and healthy and whole. Bucky thought most days that was why he’d been born at all, to keep Steve safe. Not because Steve couldn’t have looked after himself, but because he shouldn’t have to. Steve was always leaping headlong into fights to defend the little guy, and Bucky was always there, tugged along in his wake, to defend him.

Bucky had stupidly thought that maybe if he could get Steve set up with a nice girl it would ease his worry about leaving him, the horrible gnaw of it deep in his belly. Like maybe if Steve was going steady with some pretty dame it wouldn’t matter that Bucky would be dead in a ditch somewhere, not even to Bucky.

Bucky thinks that maybe if he tells himself this enough, it will become true.

But then there was the recruitment centre, and Steve, and his determination to get himself killed. Bucky realises that the one thing that would matter about being dead in a ditch would be Steve not knowing how Bucky couldn’t bear for him to be there too.

It’s only taken his entire life, but Bucky is done denying how feels about Steve. What’s the point, when they could both be dead before the month is out? All the worries and the fears of rejection, of Steve not letting him care for him any more seem insignificant in the face of a reality like that.

Bucky Barnes loves Steve Rogers. He’s loved him since he was six years old, and he’ll love him as long as there is air in his lungs. He knows this, just as surely as he knows that he isn’t sorry about it, as surely as he knows he should be. He does not wish he wasn’t in love. He doesn’t care what God, or the world, may think. He only wants for Steve to know this, to know that someone sees the light that shines from within him, the sunlight of his soul, and that someone loves him because of his skinny body and his vitriolic temper and his shy smiles. Bucky might not be the person Steve wants to feel this way, but maybe knowing someone does will keep the dark clouds of self-doubt away.

This is going to hurt, this confession, but what could hurt Bucky more than Steve believing he’s somehow unlovable? Bucky can’t give him much, but he can give him this.

The door creaks its sympathies at Bucky’s hesitations as he gently, finally, pushes it open.  The apartment isn’t much warmer than the hallway; the shitty seals on their windows have always let all the heat out. Bucky hurries to close the door behind him.

The wooden floor is cold against his socks where he’s slipped out of his shoes, but it’s better than accidentally disturbing Stevie. He’s asleep on the sofa, hunched awkwardly in on himself, back to the door. He probably thought Bucky would want their room alone tonight, or well…not alone, but with Connie. Bucky feels a pang of guilt for all the times he’d done this to Steve, let his own selfish need to deny his feelings and forget everything but the pretty doll in his arms force his friend out of his own bed. At least when Bucky leaves tomorrow (today, god) Steve will have the room to himself.

Steve’s arms are shaking visibly in his sleep because the damn fool didn’t even bring his blanket out with him. Bucky sighs and slips past into the bedroom to grab the blanket off his own bed. Someone has to keep the punk warm.

When he steps back in the room, though, Steve is awake, sleepily swiping his hand across his eyes.  Bucky pauses, unsure for a moment what to do when faced with an awake Steve, but after a moment he settles the comforter around Steve’s shoulders, and sits gingerly beside him, careful not to crowd him.

Steve yawns, looking over at Bucky out of the corner of his eye, still not quite awake. “You have a nice time with the girls?”

Bucky hums noncommittally, forcing a humourless smile to rest on his face. Not that Steve can see it properly in the dark, of course..  

“I’m sure they did, a night with charmin’ Sergeant Barnes? What dame wouldn’t have fun.” Steve’s trying to tease, but his voice is flat. Does he think Bucky can’t tell when he’s hiding the truth? He knows Steve is sore Bucky’s got his orders and he’s still not wanted by the army, but Bucky can’t deal with this fight tonight. Not on his last night, not when it’s so far from the truth, not when _charmin’ Sergeant Barnes_ doesn’t exist and its just Stupid Bucky Barnes in his place, who doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing being in love with his best friend. Not tonight.

“Don’t.” Bucky stares at his hands, watches them shake, not trusting himself to say anything else just yet. _Come on Barnes, get yourself together._

For once, Steve knows not to push, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. C’mon, Buck, get under the blanket with me, you’re shivering over there. Can’t have _you_ getting sick.”

Bucky lets himself be pulled into the shared warmth, body aching to lean further into the arm Steve’s placed around his shoulders. “M’fine, Stevie.”

“You’re shaking so much you’re making my teeth rattle. Get over here, you need to warm up.”

Bucky relaxes into the awkward half hug, leaning back against the worn, threadbare couch cushions. Steve is gonna hate him for this moment when he knows what Bucky’s thinking, but Bucky can’t make himself move away. _Story of my life._

“Stop stealing my lines, I’m supposed to be the one worryin’ about you getting sick.”

Steve laughs, and the sound soothes Bucky’s nerves. He’s got to hoard these sounds while he can. “Yeah, well, you don’t gotta worry like that for now, I think you’ve done enough of that. Remember when we used to do this when we were little?”

Bucky smiles. “When you were little-r.”

“Fuck off, jerk.”

“You used to worm your way into my bed when you were sick, because you knew I’d always keep you warm.”

“I seem to remember that you climbed over to my bunk just as often because you were worried I’d catch a chill.”

Bucky does remember doing that, whenever he’d stayed at the Roger’s, which was often. Steve used to make these terrible noises in sleep, a horrible whistling sound as his tiny lungs fought to get air. Bucky remembers panicking, lying listening to those sounds, worrying that they’d get worse, or that they’d stop completely. He used to climb in with Steve so that he could feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing, to make sure it was still there. He’d made himself stop when he started to become aware of what he felt for Steve. It wasn’t proper to share a bed while hiding feelings like that.

As if sensing the dark place Bucky’s thoughts have gone to, Steve breaks the quiet.

“I’m a-okay, Buck. Let me take care of you now. You’re…you’re not gonna be in Brooklyn much longer.”

Bucky swallows around the lump in his throat. “Right. About that, Steve, I- I gotta tell you something.”

Steve squints at Bucky in the dark, confused. Bucky tries to steady himself by taking a shaky breath.

Steve’s tone is sharp. “There’s not something wrong, is there? The army doc didn’t find something did he-”

“I’m not sick Steve, God, I’m as healthy as a horse, I just…I need to tell you something, okay?”

Steve stays quiet, but nods. No point delaying this any longer.

“You don’t- you don’t have to…I mean, you don’t have to say anything back to me, I don’t expect nothing from you Stevie, please, you hafta understand that much.”

“I understand, Bucky, but you’re scaring me now. What is it?”

“I- I don’t know how to say this right. I can’t do this the way you deserve someone to. Every time I try to think of the right way to say it, my tongue gets tied in knots, I ain’t good with words like you, not when they matter, anyhow. But I want to say this, before I leave, before I have to go because I might not come back, and- this is what I want to sign off with.”  

Steve squeezes Bucky tighter against his bony shoulder, and Bucky closes his eyes for a second, gathering all the courage he can find to turn his head and look into those beautiful blue eyes and say his piece, consequences be damned. He bends closer, as close as he dares, until his forehead against Steve’s.

“Listen: I love you, Stevie. I always have, I think, and I can cope with going to war, I can cope with giving my life for my country- I want to, if it can make you proud of me-but I can’t face dying without you knowing how much I love you. Because I do, so much it terrifies me sometimes.”

The world is frozen for a moment. Nothing moves, nothing stirs but Bucky’s heart, beating fast in his chest. Steve seems to be incapable of doing anything, forehead still touching Bucky’s, eyes caught looking into Bucky’s own. Bucky takes pity on him, decides to pull away to give him the space he deserves after finding out his best guy’s been stuck on him for so long. Bucky can’t imagine how betrayed he feels.

And yet the second he starts to move away, Steve’s pulling him closer, arms coming up to encircle his neck.

“You’re such an idiot.” Steve whispers, and then he’s crushing their mouths together with such tenderness and urgency that Bucky only has time to think _oh_ before he melts under the attention.

The kiss is clumsy and uncoordinated, but it’s perfect because it’s _Steve,_ Steve wants him, Steve loves him, Bucky hasn’t lost him, not because of this.

There are tears streaking both their faces before they stop, and the blanket’s tangled between them, but neither of them can stop, desperate to make up for lost time.

Bucky knows this won’t change anything, knows that the war is still waiting for him in the morning, but for now his world has narrowed to the man in his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> write me a comment and I'll love you like rlb?


End file.
